Reason
by NextHeaven
Summary: Rufus has to face up to the world one day, and that day has unfortunately arrived. One man stands by him, unswayed by his insults and attempts to push him away, determined to fufil what he sees as something more than his duty. RufusXRude


NextHeaven: This is something I wrote at night when I couldn't sleep...which is pretty much most nights really. My first oneshot, so I hope it is somewhat coherent. I think I've got rid of most of the typos and grammatical errors, however a few may have evaded me as I normally tend to proof read at 2:30am...which probably isn't the best time. Anyways, I'd like to know what people think - good, bad, maybe, suggestions, etc. Oh, and I don't own Final Fantasy VII or Advent Children, Square Enix does as you know :) However, I do own this story!

**Reason**

I remember the last words he said to me: "You will never be a son of mine". Meaning interpreted as _I will never be proud of you, you insolent brat._. All those years I worked under him, striving to become something that no one could be, an apparition of some lunatic idealism he had in his head. I don't think about it anymore, except sometimes when I wake up at night and I cannot keep the blackness away. I just have to keep reminding myself how glad I am the old tyrant is dead. I will always try and remember my father a mutilated and broken corpse, his dead face contorted in pain. That is the only memory of him I wish to keep.

It was miserable morning, the rain falling lazily from the stained grey sky. The new Shinra Tower was finally complete and we were all eager to move in, away from the grotty apartments of Healin. I dressed in my usual long white trench coat, a black scarf around my neck to protect it from the whipping wind. The sleek car waited outside, driver standing holding the door open for me. I got in, glad to be out of the wind and rain. I watched through the steamed up windows as Rude made his way out of our apartments, my briefcase bundled into his arms, held as if it were a precious specimen. He got into the car, opening the door for himself, and sat down next to me.

"Sorry Sir, I couldn't find it," he mumbled as he groped around for the seatbelt. It was obvious and I handed it to him.

"Thank you," he said. The car finally moved off, leaving our temporary home behind. I wasn't sad to see it go, only sad to know that I was going to have to face the media one day. And that day was to be soon with the opening of the new tower. Rude removed his ever present sunglasses and I was surprised to see his eyes were tired and creased. He noticed I was looking and turned his face to the window. It was the only time he ever removed those glasses – when he was in a vehicle and sometimes at night in the apartment when it was dark enough to hide his expression. I always wondered what he wished to conceal so much, what secret could his eyes not hid?

We sat in silence as the grey ruins of Midgar drifted past like wisps of dark memories. I saw the Tower looming ahead, as the car drew ever closer. A cluster of press surrounded the doors, harassing the guards that desperately tried to keep them at bay. Their attention focused on the car as it pulled up outside the building. Flashes of light blinded me as they reflected of the tinted windows and I was reminded of the light that destroyed Midgar. Rude was out of the car, pushing his way to the other side to open the door for me. I took a deep breath, knowing the time has finally come to face up to the world again.

There is a barrage of questions and cameras pushed in my face as I step out into the chilly air. The noise is incredible, like a cacophony of stress, filling my ears until I am unable to even hear myself think. Rude's impressive build acts as a shield as he ploughs his way through the crowd, I follow behind, trying as hard as I can to keep a straight face, knowing that if I just keep following him I will get through.

I must not break…

"After what you've done, what makes you think you have the right to build such a monstrosity?"

"Why did you not abolish Shinra after the atrocities you did!?"

"Where have you been hiding these past months?"

"Isn't it about time the country found a new source of power?"

"Are you only doing it to live up to your father's expectations?"

The last question did it. I would never do anything if it meant being what that bastard wanted as a son. I turned to the reporter who hurled the insult: a small, middle aged man with mousy brown hair.

"And are you living up to your father's expectations? Is that all your life's about, sucking like leeches from the lives of others more intelligent than yourself, always preying on others misfortunes like a scavenger upon a corpse? You people should never have crawled out of your scum infested gutters!"

"What did you say?!" the reporter screamed, his face quickly inflating red. I laughed hysterically and the cameras were like a million suns bearing down upon me.

"Who the fuck do you think you are? Got the nerve to say something like that to me when everyone hates your sorry ass already," the black haired reporter spat, raising his camera once more, as if it was a fully loaded gun. I didn't anticipate my actions, I just acted. A second later my fist smashed into his upturned little nose, sending blood streaking across his face. Then they were all upon me, fists flying, curses hurtling like spitfire. It was then I thought perhaps I did do the right thing, perhaps it would be best if I just died right here and now. It would go down in history: Rufus Shinra dies at the doors to the new Tower. Perhaps they'd even erect a grave outside the door to my new home, wouldn't that be something. I kept laughing as the fists pounded into me, not bothering to even defend myself, the pain was somewhat a comfort.

I lay in a foetal position on the cold ground, camera's flashing, feet diving in to pierce into my stomach when I was suddenly swooped up off the ground. Though dazed and confused I could make out the strong, protective arms of Rude as well as the spark of electricity from none other than Reno's magrod. The rest was a blur through a sea of faces with teeth bared like phantoms and eyes filled with fire that would make even Bahamut jealous.

The doors opened and the guards momentarily parted, letting the heavy set man carry me to safety while Reno covered him from behind.

"Sir, we must see to your wounds!" one of the guards said, another running to get the medics.

"No!"

"Sir, as much as you like a good brawl, I don't think you'd like them wounds to get infected, eh?" Reno smirked, re-sheathing his weapon.

"Just…take me to my room…" my voice was hoarse and all I wanted was a good drink and some attempted sleep. "That's an order…" I said, seeing that they were all still standing there like fools. I felt Rude sigh and knew he was giving in.

"You can put me down now," I said in irritation once we reached my spacious, newly furnished apartment.

"You should rest," was the man's only reply as he carried me into the bedroom and laid me down gently upon the bed. I sighed in frustration, immediately trying to get up but was halted by the excruciating pain in my side. I reckoned a few ribs must have cracked. Rude, still standing beside the bed, removed his sunglasses, the only shield over his true emotions.

"Are you certain you would not like me to call a doctor?" he said, concern evident within those bottomless dark eyes. For some reason I didn't want to look at him and turned my head down, trying to hide from those dark orbs that bore down on me. I shook my head.

"Just get me a drink,"

I heard him sigh in defeat and leave the room. I was relieved. I didn't understand this sudden tension that had come over me. Perhaps it was because I hated anyone to see me in such a vulnerable state. But then, Rude had helped care for me when I had the Geostigma…and that had certainly not been pleasant. I remembered the time briefly and how I had pushed him and everyone else away with self-loathing. In the end I had let him change my bandages and help feed me but only because he never left my side, not matter what curses I threw at him and I had finally given in.

However then he had kept his glasses on most of the time, I could never see his eyes and I was glad of that. Although he was a loyal bodyguard, there was something about him that frightened me. Perhaps it was his never changing expression, perhaps it was the way he was so gentle when it came to helping people, or perhaps it was because I could never read his emotions the way I read everyone else's. He was a mystery to me.

Just then Rude came back, glass of straight vodka in his hand. I took it from him gratefully and gulped, not caring about grace or dignity this time. I knew my wounds would heal soon due to the amount of mako in my body but until then I needed something to dull the pain and I wasn't prepared for some doctor to come and stick a needle in me. I'd had enough of needles in my lifetime.

"Just get me the bottle," I said. He nodded and left again. "Bring a glass for yourself," I added. A moment later he returned, bottle of vodka in one hand and an empty glass in the other.

He sat on the only chair in the bedroom beside the dresser. I watched him sip his drink slowly, thoughtfully. I could sense he was uneasy, the way he picked at his fingers and fiddled with his glasses every so often.

"What is it?" I snapped, irritated by his looming silence and the way he never even met my eyes. He looked at me in surprise, at the sudden outburst.

"Sir?"

"What is wrong with you? Why do you keep fidgeting?"

He shrugged. "I am sorry, sir,"

"I didn't ask for an apology, I asked for an answer,"

He put his glass down, his brows knitting together as he contemplated if he should speak more or not. I stared at him straight in the eyes, those eyes that both drew me and frightened me.

"Why did you attack the reporter?" he asked bluntly, his deep voice still giving away no hint at his feelings on the subject.

I found myself laughing then, not in humour but in desolation. Was it not obvious why I attacked the fool? Surely he wasn't _that_ dumb.

"Sir?" Rude said, a frightened expression gracing his dark features as he made his way over to me and sat down on the bed. I felt the mattress go down with his bulk and I almost slid into his side. He looked at me unsurely, as if I was some sort of monster that could attack at any moment. Is that how he saw me? Is that how everyone saw me? Was I only something to be feared…?

I hardly noticed the thick finger glide over my cheek, or the tears that were being wiped away. I was still laughing dryly as they streamed down my face. He really must have thought I was some sort of nut job, breaking down in the midst of laughter. I focused on one thing, the only thing I could do and that was to meet his eyes and say the only truthful thing that came into my mind.

"No ones ever done that before…" I whispered, trying so hard to keep my voice steady, emotionless. But this time it didn't work.

"No one has ever comforted you before?" Rude asked, a frown upon his face.

"Only my mo-" I caught myself before I said too much. I didn't wish for anyone to know my past, I had already tried so hard to forget it. He didn't say anything, he didn't try to encourage me into spilling out my past, instead he put his strong arms around me and held me there. I felt more secure than I ever had in my life and tried to get closer to the warmth, tucking my head in against his muscular chest. I could hear his heart beating, it was the only sound in the quiet room apart from my own. A constant and quickening thump.

I finally lifted my head and looked up at the man who had been brave enough to come close to me. I searched within those deep, dark eyes, trying to grasp why he hadn't turned away yet. His hand returned to my face to flick away the remaining tears.

"You should get a box of tissues," Rude said matter of factly. I chuckled slightly at his comment catching his hand before it left my face. His body tensed around me as I continued to press his hand against my cheek, marvelling at how smooth it was considering the amount of fighting he did.

"S-sir?" he mumbled, unsure of what to do.

"Please…call me by my first name…" I released his hand but he kept it there. I smiled, seeing for once conflict within those entrancing eyes. Did he…like me? Did he feel the warmth that I felt from him? I leaned in, not bothering to wait for an answer, taking his lips in mine in one ferocious embrace. I could see his eyes widen in shock – the first proper emotion I'd seen in them. Sliding my tongue along his bottom lip I attempted to gain entry to his mouth, but he wouldn't move. Perhaps I had shocked him a little too much?

He suddenly pulled away and got off the bed, leaving me to fall rather ungracefully onto my side.

"Where do you think your going?" I shouted as he made for the door. He stopped briefly, his back to me.

"Sir, this is not part of my job…"

I felt anger boiling inside me. I was only a job…everything was only a job…I had lived my life by "only a job" since my mother died and for the first time it seemed like this wasn't "only a job", that there may have been some hope in the abyss of chaos in which I lived, some solid substance that I could grasp, something I could…lean on. I heard him shout, or more of a strangled scream before realising that I had thrown my half empty glass at his back, the said object now shattered on the ground.

"You're the same as all the other fucking scum!" I bawled, feeling that uncontrollable rage take hold of my body. I hated it, losing control like this, feeling the mako in my blood start to boil, seeing the edges of the world slowly merge. Suddenly he was on top of me, those smooth, strong hands denting my pale, thin, wrists as he wrenched the bottle of vodka from my grip. I realised that I must have been about to throw that too. I cried out as I felt pain sear through my still healing wounds from the fight.

"Get off me!" I ordered through gritted teeth, desperately trying to writhe out of his grip. He shifted his weight away from my wounds but didn't release his grip on my wrists. I could see he was panting from the effort of holding me down and I smiled inwardly. I may not have been the most masculine of men, but the years of mako treatment I had endured at the hands of _that man_ made my strength superior to most.

"I'll let you go when you're calm," he said through breaths. When I'm calm? He treated me like a child, like a babysitter trying to prevent a toddler from taking a tantrum. Was I really that bad that I couldn't control my own anger, my own emotions?

I stopped struggling and turned my face away from him, focusing my eyes on the bedside clock, on anything that wasn't him. I suddenly felt uneasy, vulnerable. It felt like my emotionless façade had been stripped from me and the man he saw was the person I tried so hard to hide; my real self.

"Rufus,"

The voice echoed inside my head until it got through to me that he had actually called me by my first name. Warm hands turned my face towards his own, towards the dark abyss of his eyes.

"You're never simple, huh?" he said, a hint of humour in his deep voice and the ghost of grin upon his lips.

"I would say the same of you,"

"You're different than your father, so much more rebellious, you know that?"

I laughed at the obviousness of it. "Of course. You think I would sink into the gutter as far as he did?"

"Heh, no, you're too strong for that…"

"Then it seems…we aren't that much different…"

I met his eyes again, searching for the truth. I was met with a maelstrom of emotions, such a contrast to the stone cold blankness that I usually saw. And at that moment I never wanted anymore more in my life than I wanted him. I lifted my hand, now free of its restraints, to his shirt collar and pulled him down on top of me, our lips meeting at once. This time it was reciprocal; he let my tongue explore every crevice of his mouth, every smooth ivory tooth, our tongues dancing in a heated fight the entire time. I let my hands roam over his huge back, feeling the solidness of his muscles and taking comfort in the great, shielding bulk. He broke the kiss, lingering with a playful nip on my bottom lip before undoing my jacket.

"Aren't too concerned about jobs now, are we?" I smirked. He silenced me with another kiss, this time his tongue exploring my mouth. I gave up the oral battle as I felt his hands under my shirt, roaming over my bare chest, a slight moan escaping my mouth. It surprised me how talented he was, I'd never have thought he was type that had much of a social life outside of the pub…but then again, I had never worked him out like I had most people. Now it seemed, I was beginning to know the kind of man he really was.

I didn't bother fiddling with the buttons on his shirt, instead opting to rip the garment of his body, watching as buttons flew like gunshot in all directions.

"That was bought the other day!" he protested, delectable scorn upon his face.

"I'll buy you a better one," I whispered as I nipped at his neck. He tensed, goose pimples arising on skin.

"Sir…!" he gasped. I bit down hard, smiling at the small whimper I elicited from him.

"Didn't I tell you not to call me that?" I chuckled, letting my breath tickle his bruised skin as I worked my way up to his ear, flicking my tongue along the lobe. He suddenly grabbed me, pulling me into a rough, heated kiss. This time I didn't give up easily, pushing his tongue aside and letting my own explore his mouth once more. He tried to win the battle of dominance but I silenced him, snaking my hand beneath the waistband of his trousers. He gasped, eyes clenched shut as I took hold of his length and began to stroke it.

"…This isn't…right…" he murmured as I undid his trousers.

"Why not?"

"Y-you're…the President…"

"And…?" Having successfully removed the garment I climbed out from underneath him, pushing him down on his back and lifting myself on top to straddle his hips. Was that fear I saw within those dark orbs? Was he…scared of me?

"I'm you're body guard," he said finally.

"So that is all you see me as? Just another spoilt rich kid with a position he doesn't deserve?" I snapped, the venom back in my words.

"No…that's not what I-" I didn't let him finish as I lunged at a nipple, taking the nub of skin beneath my teeth. He arched his back, hands digging into my shoulders. I didn't linger long though, instead opting to see how much more emotion I could coax out of the stoic man.

I made my way down his toned chest, dragging my nails across his ribcage as I swirled my tongue around his belly button before progressing further down towards my destination. I raised my head, our eyes meeting in a brief pause. He stared at me, lips poised to say something but I successfully silenced him once again by running my tongue over the tip of his length. A gasp caught in his throat and I couldn't retain the smile that crept to my lips. To have such power under my control was elating; I knew at this moment I could do anything I wanted with him, anything at all. He had stood over me my whole life, ever since I was a boy, watching me, protecting me. Something in me felt guilty for all the times I'd snapped and acted like a complete asshole – which was just about all of the time. And he never said anything back, not a word; just stood there like a forever silent shadow, always within my sight and never reacting to my bait. As I took him in my mouth and felt him grasp my hair, I felt an urge to draw out as much noise as I could from him, angry that he had deprived me for all these years. This time I would make him say something, I would make him react to me…this time.

I swirled my tongue around his hardening length, making sure to always pierce the head with the tip. He was a big man and as much as I tried I could not fit all of him in my mouth so I resorted to using my hands as well. I trailed further down to take one of his balls in my mouth and suck on it slowly while keeping the pace with my hands.

"Oh God…R-Rufus!" he panted, arching his muscular hips to meet my thrusts. I smirked; he had said my name. I once again took him in my mouth, teasing a nipple with my spare hand. He was thrusting harder now and I knew he wouldn't last much longer…and neither would I. I felt stinging as his hands clenched around my narrow shoulders, digging in so much that they broke the skin. I wasn't about to let him find release just yet, no, that was too nice.

I abruptly pulled away, licking the pre-cum from my lips. He let out a frustrated moan, eyes begging for me to resume.

I only smirked, a slight chuckle escaping my lips.

"You sadistic bastard!" he growled, his voice louder than I'd ever heard it in conversation.

"You deserved it,"

"What?"

"All those years of silence you put me through. You never once reacted to me, not once!" I hissed.

"I was employed by your father to protect you, not to…" he trailed off, a darkness coming across his chocolate skin that could have only been a blush.

"Fuck me?"

His eyes met mine in an intense stare, yet another battle for domination. I thought those depths were more haunting than my own, more frightening, and again the fear of what I would find led me into submission.

He grabbed me and kissed me hard, his tongue ravaging my mouth with little grace. I reached to the bedside cabinet, hastily opening the first drawer and rummaging around until I found what I was looking for. He raised a dark eyebrow as I handed him the lube before proceeding to hastily coat himself in the jelly. He grabbed me by the shoulders, all gentleness lost within need and attempted to push me down onto the bed.

"No, this way!" I said preventing him from turning me over. He looked as if he would protest but then decided against it.

"You sure?"

I didn't bother replying, instead rubbing my entrance over his cock. His eyes widened and he let out a small sound before thrusting up and impaling me upon it. I cried out in a half strangled yelp as the pain surged through my body, reminding me of my still healing wounds and of the last time I had ever had anyone inside me. I didn't want to remember that time however, it was one of those memories I tried to forget so I started to rock my hips, encouraging him to move, wanting to drive the thoughts from my head. He got the message and began to thrust into me at a quickening pace. I threw my head back, closing my eyes as I felt his hands move over my body as if it were a piece of artwork, lingering on the old scars and newly forming bruises. His hands seemed to sooth the pain somewhat and with it the memories that threatened to take over my mind. His heat was growing inside me, burning my flesh with it's fullness and with his increasing thrusts I found myself succumbing to the ecstasy that was Rude.

"Faster…" I breathed, my fingernails digging into his shoulders as I held myself upright, riding him to match his pace.

He paused momentarily, re-adjusting himself so that I was further forward, staring right down at him, directly into two dark universes. He lifted me up with his powerful arms and began pounding into me at a jaw shattering pace. A stifled scream escaped my lips as I felt him hit that spot deep inside that sent waves of pleasure electrocute my body and made my vision blurry. He let go of me so I fell onto his thrust, hitting that spot repeatedly and making me forget about all the pain and worry and memories. A strong arm held on to support me while another grabbed hold of my neglected member and began to stroke it in time with the erratic rhythm. The double assault nearly blew my mind but I tried to hold on, to focus on the now panting man beneath me. Beads of sweat clung to his forehead, his eyes briefly scrunching shut in bliss while a low gasp escaped his mouth. The tightness in me was growing and his relentless assault more persistent. The image of that glistening bronze body, of the strength and solidness, of the man who had protected me since I was a child sent me over the edge. I let my head roll back, delicate hands tightening into fists as I shouted his name, my seed spilling across his chest. The haze of pleasure left my body without energy and he let me collapse onto him as he continued to ravage me. Draped over his chest, I could hear his heart racing at an unbearable pace and I knew he was close. A second later I felt a slick warmth engulf my insides and a moan catch in his throat. His muscles tensed against my limp body, arms squeezing the air out of my lungs so much that I thought I would suffocate.

Then he relaxed, arms resting gently around me. My eyes were drooping with exhaustion and I couldn't find the will to move. So instead I lay there, the sweat from our bodies mingling until finally he carefully pulled out of me, a hiss escaping my lips at the sudden lack of fullness. He rolled me off him and curled around me, a protective arm around my waist. I could feel his breath on the back of my neck and wondered if he was going to say anything.

But that was not his nature of course. He was the ever silent rock. The stoic man who protected me since my childhood, the man I had never come to close to understanding….until now. I realised what scared me about those eyes; the eyes he always hid behind the mask of dark glass. A simple thing really.

Love.

He stayed with me throughout the years when he could have left the TURKS, he stayed with me through the years I was abused by my father and Hojo, he stayed with me through my adolescent years of depression and loathing, he stayed with me through the hell that was Geostigma. And he is still with me now.

So this is what "love" is, something that isn't as tangible as the ruins of Midgar. Why has it taken me so long to realise this?

I can hear his soft breathing and I know he has fallen asleep, still holding me tight.

My guardian, my reason.

"Thank you…" I whisper softly.


End file.
